various thoughts from the last living unicorn.

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Monday, September 21, 2015

i'm going to write about what i know: the lack of "love life" of a certain 23, going on 24 year old (kind of) adult woman. (hey, that's me!) in my nearly 24 years of life, no member of the opposite sex has ever showed even an inkling of romantic interest in me. and to be honest, it's taken me a long time to accept that this fact isn't the end of the world. younger versions of myself would disagree, but trust me, younger me's: it's okay. it's okay that the only boy who ever wanted to hold your hand or kiss you was ultimately more interested in holding the hand of a cute boy instead. at least you have that, amelia. (be more grateful, amelia! okay. thanks amelia.) the only reason that this "little fact" is troubling, especially to the the self esteem of a red-blooded human, is because it all comes down to size.

my size, to be exact.

being a fat girl your whole life is hard, and i of course am far from blameless when it comes to my size, but genetics play their part and also my background of parents who have never really known how to cook healthy also plays a part. and i like to believe i'm more than my clothes size (22-24) or how much i weigh on a scale. i like to believe there is more to me than my large stature or my slightly average looks, but somehow boys have never quite been able to look past this.

i have a killer personality (on a good day) and i promise i can make you laugh (and also tell you a lot of seemingly useless information about various films, television shows, actors, actresses and western union transactions), so shouldn't all that be enough? i mean, i wish it were, but it never has seemed to be. and it's sad, really. why should i have to shrink myself in order for someone to love me? i mean, there are far more crueler and harsher injustices happening in this world all of the time, but this is my life. so all of this matters to me. and why shouldn't it? and sometimes (not nearly as often as it used to) it really bothers me, and makes my heart constrict in my chest a bit. but i take a deep breath, remind myself that it's okay, and life goes on.

life always continues to go on. regardless of whether or not the fat girl gets crush on or "dug like a grave". i'm learning to accept myself. love my size. revel in the beauty i possess inwards as well as outwards. my self-worth is not decided by numbers on a scale. or by the fat girl stores i have to buy the majority of my clothes at. and it's definitely not decided by cute boys who have never given me a second glance, or by those i've befriended and liked and who never felt it necessary to reciprocate those feelings.

learning to love myself, flaws and all, is not easy. but why should we need the validation of others in order for the self-love to exist? it's hard. i know that first hand, but i also know that it's possible. i don't often even like myself, but the love is always there. even on my lowest days. and ultimately i'm the only one who has my back. so the love, and belief, and trust in myself has to be there. otherwise, what will my life have been? we only get this one little life. what good does hating yourself accomplish? that negativity that eats at your brain will often try and get the best of you. please, try your hardest not to let it. and don't allow yourself to read too much into the fact that no guy has ever wanted to kiss you, or dance with you in the kitchen at one in the morning. you never know, it could happen. one day. but, if it doesn't, don't let that be the thing that defines you.

define yourself.

love yourself with all your heart, because at the end of the day, you're all that you have.

with or without a significant other.

(this was probably kind of all over the place, but it's late and my thoughts are jumbled like the hooks you hang christmas ornaments up on the tree with. also, holla at my one year hiatus from the blog. truth be told, i forgot it existed.)

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

essentially i am now living a world where the only bloggers are women who are married and have a style blog/blog about their husband/baby/family and their "seemingly" perfect lives; and yet, here i am.

i turn 23 in almost two months. i am a utahn. i am mormon (generally, i guess. but let's not get into that). i am unmarried, unattached, and (rather) embarrassingly single. i don't possess a college degree (or even many college credits). i lack a career path, and a GD clue, really. i belong to no one and that in itself can be kind of wonderful.

it's been an interesting last few years. i struggle with a lot of things. addictions, obsessions, a bad habit of procrastination, a lack of self-love, a lack of self-awareness and more importantly a lack of being aware of what's going on in the world. but that's beginning to change. i'm beginning to notice things, really notice things. and i've begun forming my own opinions about just what is going on in this crazy country and world that we live in. there are so many injustices, it pains me. it weighs heavily on my brain at night. i haven't been sleeping well. i shirked off so much of my first year of college and i truly regret it. i may not know what i want to do with my life in any aspect but i know i need to go back to school and really try. because i want to make a difference. i want to learn. i strive for knowledge to better form my opinions.

i can't allow myself to sit back and just let bad things happen without saying something about it. i'm sure at this point it'll mostly be an uneducated social (and vaguely political) commentary on our world, but you have to start somewhere. i understand i have privileges that others do not possess. i want to make the world a better place for us as human beings, for us women, especially, and why not use some of the privileges that i have? i have to try.

i'm a woman in my mid-twenties and i need to start acting like it. so, let's see where this new mind-set takes me.

"i openly embrace the label of bad feminist because i am human. i am messy."

Monday, March 3, 2014

remember when i used to blog and my life wasn't consumed by the series "my mad fat diary"?

me neither.

life is tough. school and i aren't meant to be. i'm an anti-social butterfly (aka a moth). i keep to myself a lot more. i aggressively and obsessively care about things, still. and i'm working on keeping afloat. one day at a time.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

there's something in-between feeling too much and feeling nothing, but i've lost sight of or simply can't remember what it is. or even how it feels. the world is old and i feel it in my bones. i taste it in my blood. i see it in my reflection; my mirrored image gathered from rain puddles, broken glass or even in my sleep. it's the dream you can never remember. the sock lost to the dryer. the sigh at 3 AM. the way your hands shake at the sight of someone you once shared secrets with, or worse: loved. and you want to remember how just enough something and the right dash of nothing felt. but you're too often weighed down by the things you should or shouldn't have done and it overwhelms you. like the tide at midnight; crashing into you over and over again. if only, with time, it'd polish you up like a shiny refurbished shell. the thing about shells is that they're so smooth and beautiful but they only got that way through hardships. beaten and worn down, they one day emerge. like a butterfly from a cocoon. so maybe, just maybe, too much "something" can be good in the long run. but it can be ever so challenging to see the light at the end of that tunnel, though. which is why it's sometimes better to feel complacent or indifferent, especially when overwhelmed. some days you paint, "i don't feel a damn thing," on your face. your only use for war paint is to tell the world that you refuse to fight. and some days that's okay.